


Bored

by hachigou



Category: Splatoon
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 07:23:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21334444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hachigou/pseuds/hachigou
Summary: Agent 8 finds creative ways to kill time while Agent 3 is out.
Relationships: Agent 3 & Agent 8 (Splatoon), Agent 3/Agent 8 (Splatoon)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 65





	Bored

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning, this story is a little strange. Don’t read if you’re not into tentacle stuff. Honestly, I do not remember writing this, but I found it and decided to just finish what I started, so…
> 
> Enjoy, I guess?

_ “Call now in order to redeem a special deal on—“ _

Agent 8 let out a yawn before shutting off the TV, his eyes lazily shutting as he let his head fall back against his pillow. He always became so bored whenever Agent 3 was gone, but he didn’t always feel up to tagging along whenever the Inkling had boring business to attend to.

Eight still secretly wished that Three wouldn’t leave him alone so often. He knows how much effort the Inkling puts into making time for him, but it became obvious that Eight was just a very, very needy octopus no matter where they were. It just wasn’t practical to think he could give him everything he wanted.

Even so, it didn’t bother Eight terribly—in fact, the time away from Three made the time with him seem that much better in comparison.

Of course, that didn’t mean Eight didn't _ want _ Three. He wanted him all the time. But he couldn’t always have that. On that account, the mere thought of the green squid typically had to suffice.

He closed his eyes and let his thoughts wander a bit, passively thinking about what his partner might be up to at the moment. He considered calling the older agent for a split second, but quickly decided against it when he remembered what happened the last time he couldn’t control himself over the phone.

_ I should get out of the house more… _ Eight thought to himself as he felt his hand absentmindedly sliding down his stomach. He let his fingers circle around his navel for a moment before drifting lower, before he suddenly stopped and furrowed his brows.

_ Cod… I really wish he was here. _

He knew all it would take was a simple phone call to send the squid running back to him; he wasn’t that far away, anyway. The thought turned him on, but he really did not want to bother Three with his annoyingly high libido. Again.

Eight sighed, letting both his arms fall by either side of his head before clenching his fists and pressing his thighs together. He always felt so frustrated! And being frustrated _ and _ horny was not fun at all for him.

He closed his eyes and just decided to imagine what it would be like if Three were in bed with him right now. He thought about the sensation of the other’s breath on his neck, his weight holding him down, his hands on his wrists, his lips on his…

He could feel his breathing becoming heavier, and he reached back down to softly clutch his stomach as he felt the tension building there. His tentacle began to twitch and stiffen up as it usually did when he became aroused, the sensation causing him to feel a little lightheaded. If he didn’t offer himself some relief soon, the sensations would probably become painful.

Eight bit his lip and sighed, deciding to let himself have it. He momentarily pushed his index and middle finger into his mouth before pulling them out, making sure they were slick enough. He examined the digits for a moment—his fingers were quite slender; his knuckles visibly protruded against his skin. He pursed his lips at them. They’d have to do for now. He closed his eyes, tugging down his underwear and preparing to relieve himself.

As his fingers lingered around his entrance, though, a strange idea suddenly came to his mind. It made him do a double take, and his eyes opened in slight disbelief that such a thing would cross him, even in his current state of mind.

_ ...Could I use my own tentacle to pleasure myself? _

He entertained the thought for a moment, before making a face and shaking his head… before backtracking and pondering it once again. 

Sure, he could just use his fingers as usual, but he would really like to feel something actually moving inside of him… His front tentacle tended to become quite lively whenever he was aroused enough anyway, so why not put that to use? He bit his lip at the thought of his own appendage squirming inside of him.

He felt weird for wanting it, but it wouldn’t have been the weirdest thing he’d ever done.

Deciding to let the idea get the best of him, he reached up and carefully tugged at the base of his tentacle, shuddering at the feeling as it detached from his head—it was a strange sensation, but not a painful one.

He shuddered again as, not even a few moments later, the large tentacle quickly began to regenerate itself. It would be awhile before it was back to its original size, but the curly tip already reached the top of his forehead by the time he had gotten himself situated again. That was a perk of being an Octarian; their rate of tentacle regeneration was exponential; for this reason, they were far less precious about their tentacles compared to Inklings with all their trendy styles.

Grabbing the still twitching appendage firmly in his hand, Eight examined it for a second. He had never really taken the time to look closely at his tentacles before. It seemed like it was already wet somehow.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise as it began to coil itself around his hand, almost as if it were alive. Biting his lip again, he wondered if this was really a good idea. He had already gone and pulled his own tentacle off, though, so…

Eight carefully unwrapped the tentacle from his arm and brought it down in between his legs, his heart beating with nervous anticipation and curiosity. He took a small breath, and slowly edged the tip of his tentacle inside himself. His eye twitched a bit at the sensation; it was a little colder than he expected it to be.

A small gasp escaped from his lips as the appendage suddenly pushed itself in deeper without any help from his hand. He quietly moaned, his tentacle throbbing inside of him with a surprising intensity.

“Oh—oh cod...” he quietly breathed to himself as he bit down on his knuckle, before tightly gripping the sheets with his fist. He was _ not _ expecting that to happen.

Eight could feel the tentacle pushing itself in and out of him. He tried to take hold of the appendage in order to slow down, but to his surprise, he was finding it difficult to get a grip on it. He tried a few times to no avail, and was becoming increasingly frustrated with himself. He let out a small whine, quickly realizing that this may have been a mistake.

A small arch crept into his back as his tentacle thrust itself deeper inside of him, moving on its own as the Octoling’s fingers helplessly ghosted around the base of it. His tentacle was quite large even when he wasn’t aroused (obviously larger than his partner’s member, if he had to compare) so the sensation caused him to whine louder.

His eyes fluttered shut as he willed himself to relax, taking in deep breaths and quietly reassuring himself while the tentacle continued with its pace. He slowly began to move his hips against his tentacle, and he could feel himself starting to loosen up a bit. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea?

He felt fine for awhile, but every time he was about to really get into it, the pace only seemed to increase. He let out a loud noise that was somewhere between a strangled moan and a frustrated yell, covering his face with his hands and shutting his eyes tightly. It was dizzying; his mind was begging himself to slow down, but his body seemed to want something else—and it was certainly winning.

He couldn’t help his moans growing louder as he finally succumbed to his own desires, letting his arms fall limp on his chest as his tentacle rocked him back and forth. He could feel the heat pressing up against his stomach with each thrust, and he honestly couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so aroused. He already began to feel his climax approaching, and he let out a small cry as the tentacle somehow thrusted against him even faster. He never went nearly as fast as this whenever he was normally touching himself, so he wasn’t expecting it to hit him as hard as it did.

He reached over and grabbed a pillow to bite down on as he came, his tentacle not even slightly letting up in speed as his cum shot up against his chest. He let out an exhausted, muffled moan, almost not noticing that it was _ still _ moving inside of him throughout his orgasm. Its ridiculous pace was finally beginning to subside after several moments, but Eight was so sensitive now that he couldn’t bear any more stimulation, the pulsating feeling becoming unbearable.

Using what little strength he had at the moment, he reached down in between his legs and sunk his claws into the part of the squirming tentacle he could reach. He tugged at it, not surprised to find that there was a bit of resistance coming from the other side. He shut his eyes and continued to pull as he held his breath, before the entire thing finally spilled out of him at once.

That was a sensation he never, _ever_ wanted to experience again.

His chest heaved as he finally felt empty again, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead due to the ordeal. At least he had gotten off…

Suddenly, he felt something slimy coiling around his thigh. He looked down and shrieked at the sight of the tentacle trying to move against him _ again! _ He quickly moved to peel it off and smothered the tentacle with his pillow before it could try to force itself back inside of him. He could feel the thing going limp under him, the entire situation giving him the weirdest post-orgasm mix of enlightenment, arousal, and complete disgust.

Once he was sure it wasn’t moving, he removed the pillow and stared down at the limp appendage. Was it dead, or…?

After looking at it for several moments, the realization of what he had just done finally hit him like a ton of bricks.

His face scrunched up, and he slapped his forehead with his hand as he groaned.

“...What the hell is wrong with me?! I could have _ seriously _ hurt myself…” He shook his head, completely repulsed by his actions...

Just as he was coming to terms with how dirty he was for doing this, he could hear the fumbling of keys coming from the front door. 

Oh, _ perfect _timing, Three.

His heart skipped a few beats, and he cursed under his breath when he realized what a mess he had made of the bed.

Not knowing what else to do, and certainly not wanting Three to find out what the hell he had been doing with his own tentacle while he was gone, he shoved the limp thing into one of the pillowcases and turned on the TV, trying to act as inconspicuous as possible despite being practically naked. He wrapped himself up in the soiled blanket, staring at the screen as if it were the most interesting thing he had ever seen as he tried to steady his breathing. He couldn’t make eye contact with Three when the Inkling finally opened the bedroom door.

“Hey, Eight,” Three greeted him with a warm smile as he unzipped his jacket, before walking in front of the TV and waving his hand to get his attention. “I see you’ve been busy with yourself.”

“W-what?!” Eight stammered and scooted back, finally looking up at the older agent with wide eyes. Was he really that transparent? Apparently, in his frenzy, he had forgotten to put his underwear back on. He looked down, and quickly pulled them back up.

Three let out a laugh at the other’s reaction, before bending down to ruffle his head. “I’m just messing with you. Hey, did you get your tentacles trimmed today? It looks good.” He stroked the Octoling’s newly regenerated tentacle, but Eight jerked away from the touch.

“N—no!” 

Three stared at him for a moment and titled his head, giving him a concerned look. “Uh… You feeling okay, Eight? You’re acting a little weird.”

“I-I’m fine. I’m just tired, that’s all...”

Three seemed pleased with that response. He smiled again, before shifting to plop himself down next to him on the bed and bumping his shoulder. 

“Me, too. Wanna nap?” To Eight’s horror and before he could respond, Three began to let his head fall back against the pillow in what seemed like slow-motion.

“W-wait, don’t—“ Eight stammered with his arm outstretched, but it was too late.

Feeling something squishy and wet against his head, Three furrowed his brows for a moment in confusion. He slowly sat back up, picking up the pillow and examining it. He quickly found an obvious bulge in it that was never there before.

“What’s…?” He began to question, before the culprit suddenly slipped out of the pillowcase and plopped onto the sheets, practically staring both agents right in the eye. The tentacle looked as if it was gasping for air as it twitched around erratically.

“_Shit_, I thought I killed it!” Eight quietly cursed, before covering his mouth with his hand in surprise at his language and looking back up at Three with wide eyes.

“Wait, is… Is this your tentacle?” Three asked, poking the red appendage before drawing his hand back. “...What was it doing in the pillowcase? ...And why is it so wet?”

Eight groaned and hid his face in his hands. “I’m sorry…”

Three stared at Eight for a few moments before he began to chuckle. “...What the hell were you up to while I was gone, Eight? Do I need to start taking you with me whenever I go out?”

There was no way Eight could bring himself to confess what he had done... He simply shook his head, then reached over to grab his discarded tentacle.

“Excuse me, I’m going to put this in the garbage disposal and we are going to pretend this didn’t happen,” he mumbled, before rushing out of the room in embarrassment.


End file.
